


In Peace

by EnchantedEvie



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Drabble, Family, Father & Son - Freeform, Fire Emblem - Freeform, Fishing, Fluff, Gen, Jeralt Deserved Better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 15:26:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20117314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnchantedEvie/pseuds/EnchantedEvie
Summary: Short Drabbles for FE3H.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own a single pixel of FE3H or anything from the Fire Emblem Series at all.  
Haven't Played Yet Disclaimer: I don't own a Switch and so have been clinging onto people's Let's Play videos. My apologies if I they come off as a little OOC :(
> 
> I figured, I haven't written a fic in almost a decade. I had another actual fic in draft until I scratched it. Drabbles felt like something that could help me ease back into writing :)

Fishing was simple. You put up a lure on and drop the line hoping that there would be a bite sometime soon. Often times, it was just nice to be able to sit and relax. It’s not procrastinating if there’s a catch and a meal at the end of the line.

Fishing also didn’t require talking. It was something that brought the father and son closer to each other. Simply head to a body of water, drop the line, and sit side by side until one of the rods jerked. There would be a bit of cheering, usually from Jeralt, as the line comes back up with a catch. Then the process repeated until there was enough for the whole mercenary company’s dinner (and then some). 

The father and son duo often quietly spent time together back when they were mercenaries. Whether it was fishing, training, or whittling, they always made time to relax. It wasn’t hard to do so either. For mercenaries, once a job was completed there was always this small gap of a break until they found their next job. 

At the Monastery, if Byleth wasn’t teaching, he was making study plans. If he wasn’t doing either, he was grading papers. There were after class hours for those that stuck behind to catch up on concepts they just couldn’t grasp. There were those that caught Byleth on his way back to his room for questions only for the two to return to the classrooms to go over concepts again. Jeralt himself seemed almost always busy as well. Rhea always seemed to have something for the returning knight to do, almost as if she was keeping Byleth away. Almost like she was afraid Byleth would have more questions popping up if they spent time together.

On his free days, he spent most of it running around the Monastery just as much as his non-free days. There was tea time with students, meals, lost items, talking with the students and his colleagues, and answering advice boxes. And then, there were still students that seemed to have questions. 

It had taken things to settle down and for a few months to go by until Byleth finally bumped into his father. 

“Hey there kiddo! It’s been a while since we went fishing. How about we meet at the docks?” 

They would spent the rest of the day fishing.

“Rhea’s been keeping us busy, huh.” Jeralt asked. A rhetorical question.   
“…I’ve been mismanaging my time too,” Jeralt’s brow came up. It was the first time his son replied to a question. “Oh?” He responded, nudging the pole to give the worm more encouragement. 

“I’ll make more time for us.” Byleth simply stated yanking his line up to see a small sweetfish.   
“I’ll do the same.” Jeralt promised. 

At his peripheral, Jeralt noticed a small curl at the edge of Byleth’s lips. It was one of the first smiles he’d seen on his son’s face in a long time. Perhaps, the Monastery wasn’t such a bad place after all. 

They sat side by side until they had a decent catch in their inventory. The rest of the day had gone by without more talk on either side. It was peaceful, to just sit and fish and enjoy the company of someone you loved. They only had each other after all. No Goddess nor Church in the world could steal the time that was meant for just the two of them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeralt did everything to be the best father the world would see. If not, at the very least, he wanted to be the best father to Byleth. 
> 
> But Jeralt used to question if Byleth truly loved his father back.

Jeralt used to ache to hear Byleth cry or laugh or speak when he was younger. He ached to see whether or not his son reciprocated even a speck of all the love Jeralt poured into their relationship. 

One sleepless night, he could himself thinking of all the small things he’s missed in life. He never questioned his son’s love again.

“…Did you eat?”  
He would ask when Jeralt came home particularly late from a job. Jeralt could handle himself well enough on the battlefield. Perhaps he was no invincible God, but Byleth trusted his father could fell a simple few bandits. He just wanted to make sure that, if Jeralt was coming back so late, that he wouldn’t at least go to bed hungry. “I saved some food from dinner for you.”

“Here.”  
The aid kits were always ready in hand by the time Jeralt turns the doorknob. The company did have a few disasters here and there, but nothing out of the ordinary in terms of mercenary history. There were times when funds were low. There were times where it was just a simple scratch that nobody wanted to waste a heal or mend staff over. When Jeralt returns home from his missions, Byleth was always there. One word and hands clutching the wooden box of salves, there was always a brief look of relief on the boy’s face, “Here.” 

“Be careful,”  
Byleth would always warn Jeralt, as if it was him that was the parent and not the other way around. Jeralt was **always** careful. But as Byleth found himself in his first battle and the reality of death hits, then the warnings began to come. It didn’t take words or tears for Jeralt to know what Byleth’s deepest fears were. They only had each other. If people were treasured personal possessions, then they each only hand one thing to lose. “Don’t lose focus out there,” Byleth would echo Jeralt’s own warnings back at him. 

“Take me with you next time.”  
The first words that Byleth had said the morning after Jeralt returned home heavily injured. The company had suffered heavy loses for a mission Jeralt had foolishly deemed simple. A simple escort mission through a “shortcut” resulted in an ambush. Byleth was already involved on the frontlines of the company by then, but it was such a simple job that Jeralt figured Byleth might as well just sit at home and rest for the day. It took half the company’s death and a close retreat for Jeralt to make it back, bleeding, heavily injured, but alive. “I’ll watch your back from now on,” Byleth’s voice rarely shook, but the sentence was as close to a whisper as you could get.  
He didn’t leave his father’s side for a week.

“I’ll get stronger.”  
And then he did. The Ashen Demon. The feared father and son duo. Alone, they were fearsome enough. Together, foes gave up even before a fight was declared. Byleth aimed to be as strong as his father. To watch his father’s back on the battlefield. Byleth had the potential to surpass his father. Jeralt couldn’t be more proud. “I know you will, son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Byleth is so stone-faced stoic. 
> 
> (SPOILER ALERT)
> 
> After Jeralt passes, Byleth finds his father's journal where Jerry described baby Byleth as a baby/child that did not cry nor laugh. It was unnatural. I figured he was probably silent throughout most of his childhood. I wanted to do this for a long time but didn't know how to put it into words, that Jeralt probably questioned if his son loved him back.

**Author's Note:**

> When Byleth runs in the Monastery, he REALLY RUNS. I'm shocked nobody's stopped him yet with a "No running in the halls please!" (Or maybe I skipped it?)


End file.
